


cursed fork

by canistakahari



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Comedy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: There is a cursed fork in Steve’s cutlery drawer.It is too small, and slightly bent, like Steve accidentally warped it and then inexpertly bent it back into shape with his enormous shovel hands. It does not match any of the other cutlery. It only has three tines.Bucky hates it.





	cursed fork

**Author's Note:**

> this is deeply silly and i wrote it for my dear pal [newsbypostcard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsbypostcard/pseuds/newsbypostcard) based on her personal cursed fork experience and also [this post](https://hawfstuff.com/post/180159812210/apophenic-ocelles-its-nice-to-know-im-doing).

There is a cursed fork in Steve’s cutlery drawer.  
  
It is too small, and slightly bent, like Steve accidentally warped it and then inexpertly bent it back into shape with his enormous shovel hands. It does not match any of the other cutlery. It only has three tines.  
  
Bucky hates it.  
  
“Why are you frowning at the cutlery?” asks Steve, stirring soup on the stove with a (normal) spoon.  
  
“I hate this fork,” says Bucky, lifting it out of the drawer and narrowing his eyes at it.  
  
“It’s just a fork.” Steve sounds a little bit like he’s trying not to laugh.  
  
“I HATE this FORK,” says Bucky, and he puts it deliberately back into the drawer and then closes it.  
  
“You want some soup?” asks Steve. “No forks. Just spoons.”  
  
“Don’t mock me,” snaps Bucky. Then he pauses. “What kind?”  
  
“Italian Wedding.”  
  
Bucky has no _earthly idea_ what that is. “Yes, please.”

oOo

A day later, Bucky is washing the dishes when he sticks his hand into the suds and closes his fingers around—  
  
“Cursed,” he whispers, lifting the fork out from inside the bowl it was hiding in. Lying in wait. He scowls, carefully rinsing it off. Then he dries it, carries it to the window, and throws it outside.  
  
Out, damned fork!  
  
As he closes the window and turns around, he locks eyes with Sam, who is sitting at the table with a sandwich frozen in the air on the way to his mouth.

They stare at each other for a moment.  
  
“Did you just throw a fork out the window?” Sam finally asks. He asks it in a way that says _I know the answer to this but I really wish I didn’t_.  
  
“I definitely forgot you were sitting there,” admits Bucky, shifting his weight from one socked foot to the other.

“Oh, great, this is just alone behaviour,” says Sam. “Makes sense. We don’t throw stuff we don’t want anymore into the garbage. No, this is a _defenestration_ household.”  
  
“You don’t live here,” Bucky reminds him.  
  
“And thank god for that,” mutters Sam, taking a bite of his sandwich.

oOo

Bucky is three episodes deep into the _Dogs_ Netflix documentary, sitting cross-legged on the couch with a box of tissues, when Steve walks in and puts a plate on his lap and a glass of water on the coffee table.  
  
“Eat,” he says firmly, pushing a fork into Bucky’s hand. “Drink. You’ll dehydrate.”  
  
“Move,” sniffles Bucky, craning his head. “You’re blocking the _screen_.”  
  
Steve moves with an indulgent chuckle, leaving the room.

Bucky shoves the fork into whatever is on the plate without looking and begins to shovel mashed potato and steak into his mouth. He is halfway into his dinner when he comes to the abrupt, unmistakable conclusion that he is eating with—

“No!” yelps Bucky, dropping Cursed Fork onto his plate with a clatter.  
  
Steve pops his head back in, vague concern in his eyes. “What? What’s wrong?”  
  
Bucky brandishes the entire half-empty plate at him, unwilling to touch it. “This!”  
  
Steve’s face crinkles in hurt disappointment. “Dinner,” he says, clearly put out. “I thought you liked—”

“No!” scoffs Bucky. “ _Dinner_ is buttery and delicious, I’d give it four and a half stars on Yelp. The _implement_!”

“Fork,” says Steve, very slowly.  
  
“Where did it come from?” demands Bucky.

“The drawer.” Steve leans against the door frame, surprisingly patient now that his cooking skills aren’t being insulted. “Where it lives with the other utensils.”  
  
“This is the one I hate,” says Bucky. “It’s _weird_.”

“I can get you another one.” It’s that soft, indulgent tone again. Buttery, like mashed potatoes.  
  
Bucky sighs. “Yes, please.”  
  
When Steve disappears to get it for him, he opens the living room window and hurls Cursed Fork into the night.

oOo

“I found this on the sidewalk,” says Steve, two days later, waving Cursed Fork at Bucky.

Ah. The culprit. Of course it was Steve. He can’t leave anything well enough alone. Bucky bares his teeth at it.

“Any idea how it got there?” Steve continues.  
  
“Yes,” says Bucky. He takes it from Steve, opens the window, and gestures illustratively. He doesn’t throw it, though, because clearly that method is proving ineffective with Steve around to intently rescue it.

Instead, he holds it in the palm of his metal hand and crushes it into a ball.  
  
“That’s the one you hate,” says Steve faintly. “Got it.”

oOo

A week later, Bucky pours himself a bowl of cereal in the morning and opens the cutlery drawer.

Lying on top of all the other, normal spoons is one that looks like it’s been put through the garbage disposal. Bent at the handle, with a weird curve, too round at the head. _Too round_.

Buck hisses in dismay.

Cursed _spoon_.

Time is a flat circle.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] cursed fork](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18165488) by [Loolph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loolph/pseuds/Loolph)




End file.
